


Freelancer

by TwistedSquid



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Defiant Victim, Do Not Archive, Forced Orgasm, M/M, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Nonconathon Treat, Partial Mind Control, Victim Visibly Disheveled After Rape, Victim underestimates rapist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 21:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15204131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwistedSquid/pseuds/TwistedSquid
Summary: Elias teaches Gerard a lesson about the true power of Beholding.





	Freelancer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zai42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zai42/gifts).



“She’s not here.” 

Gerard froze as the door to the Archives clicked shut. No point in going for a knife, it wouldn’t do a damn thing against the man behind him. So he simply turned and gave him a flat look.

“Then I’ll come back later. Just here to give my statement.” Hands open, not that he’d be able to sneak anything past Elias Bouchard. But better to pretend. Let him puff up his ego, the high and mighty head of The Magnus Institute. Let him think Gerard didn’t know exactly what his game was.

“I’d actually like to talk to you myself, Gerard. I’d recognize that face anywhere,” Elias said as he crossed the room. Only shirtsleeves, no jacket or tie. Unusual for a man like this. Sure, didn’t matter in the end. The Lukases certainly didn’t care. But there were a few donors who were more peripheral to the work, and it paid to keep them happy. Or so his grandmother had written in her journals. Maybe that had changed.

“I have to say, I’m delighted you’ve chosen to help Gertrude. Elsa Keay was truly one of the best researchers the Institute ever had, and it was such a pity Mary didn’t follow in her mother’s footsteps.” Elias was only a few feet away now, near the chair that sat in front of Gertrude’s desk for her rare appointments. He didn’t sit. Neither did Gerard.

“My mother never much liked the Institute.” A neutral statement, and something Elias already knew. Not that there was much he didn’t know. But if all he was looking for was a bit of gloating, maybe some dick waving, well, it’d hopefully be enough.

“No, and she didn’t like Gertrude either. But you’re different.” His eyes lingered on Gerard’s knuckles. Gerard kept his hands carefully still. “Interesting tattoos you have. Mind if I take a closer look?”

“Cut the crap. You know what they are.” 

Elias smiled, white glints of teeth peeking out between pink lips. Gerard bared his own teeth in response.

“Indeed. And I presume you have other ones like them? I’d love to see them too.” Before Gerard could react, Elias’s hand was on his elbow, at the exact spot of the tattoo, tracing the lines he saw through the fabric. Not unexpected, but that wasn’t what threw him. No, it was the way his breath caught as Elias caressed the shape of the eye, again and again, and how it send lines of pleasure skating down his skin.

“What are you doing?” Gerard said, shakier than he’d like.

Elias stepped closer, crowding him against Gertrude’s desk, still engaging in that infuriating rubbing. His breath was hot on Gerard’s neck. He bit down on the musscle there, and Gerard wanted to shove him away, tell him to fuck off, that he wasn’t into Elias’s kind of creep. But whatever Elias was doing to the tattoos locked his joints in place, and all he could do was moan as Elias sucked on the bitten flesh, while his other hand toyed with Gerard’s collar, tracing the skin just under the edge.

“Are you going to ask me to strip?” Gerard managed to grit out. Whatever weird control Elias had, it was also making him hard, and he wanted nothing more than to get away to deal with it. But alone, not with Elias watching, the sick fuck. Or at least a semblance of it.

“Nothing so pedestrian,” Elias said, and tore his shirt open. 

“Fuck you, that was a limited run!” He realized that the strange pleasure was gone, that Elias had stopped his incessant rubbing. “Was the all you wanted to do?” He was panting. This was ridiculous. Like he was just some poor sod who’d stumbled into a monster’s trap, not the latest in a long line, experienced and seasoned. 

“Hardly,” Elias said. He brushed his fingers over the planes of Gerard’s chest, circling and circling, ever closer to the black lines scrawled over his heart. Gerard swallowed, and shifted as best he could, trying to get some relief. He knew what Elias was going to do. But he didn’t know what would happen after, and he hated it. 

As Elias began to trace the eye over his heart, he felt the pleasure course through his veins again, tenfold what it was before, straight to his cock. He slumped back against the desk, and could barely even care that Elias was watching him with a distinctly smug expression. Didn’t they always say when you were older, you figured out your parents were right? Well, looked like Mary had been right about the Institute. Best to keep your distance, she’d said. Until you know how they tick. And damn him, but Gertrude had warned him too. He’d pay for it now, but fuck him if he’d go down easily. 

“What the hell are you getting out of this? Besides being a pervert,” Gerard said, then gasped as Elias pressed harder against his tattoo, and his cock jumped in his jeans. Too tight, Gertrude had said, and he’d rolled his eyes. Now he wished he’d listen, the constraint just this side of excruciating as Elias continued his steady circuit of the lines of the eye. 

“I’ve never much liked freelancers,” Elias said. He wasn’t looking at Gerard’s face, just the eye. “They never show quite the dedication true employees do.”

“They’re dedicated because you can control them.” Gertrude had sacrificed her assistants just the same, but that didn’t mean she didn’t pity them. But they both knew that there was a price for serving the greater good, when faced with almost unbeatable odds. And someday they’d have to pay it too. 

“Oh, I rarely have to resort to that.” Gerard realized he was getting close to coming, just from the damn stroking. How the hell was Elias doing it? “Simple manipulation generally suffices. But that connection that we share, it really helps them to truly understand what they serve. You lack that dedication. Your mother did as well.”

Memory implantation, and knowledge. Could he be using a form of it here? Layers upon layer of lost pleasure, echoing sighs only Elias now remembered, and turned against him. Their eyes locked. 

“Pity you were fucking scared of her.” He hissed as his balls tightened, whatever Elias was sending him escalating even further. Fuck, he was going to come in his pants like a teenager. But it was worth it for the momentary flash of irritation on Elias’s face.

“So were you. Isn’t that why you killed her?” 

Gerard snorted, and took a different sort of pleasure in the way Elias’s brow furrowed. He didn’t know the whole story. And even compromised as Gerard was, he’d be fucked before he told Elias. All too literally, in this case.

But the pithy retort died on his lips as Elias dug the tip of his finger into the pupil, and Gerard came in strangled spurts, unpleasant dampness flooding his pants, his jeans, and sliding down his leg. When he’d caught his breath, he said, “I like to think I learned all she had to teach.” 

Elias didn’t let him go. Bastard wasn’t done with him yet. He fisted a hand in Gerard’s hair and forced him to his knees. Whatever hold he’d managed was still in place. Gerard was too weak to do more than crawl, and while he might’ve acted rashly coming here, he sure as hell wasn’t going to make himself even more vulnerable.

“Not quite,” Elias said, undoing the button on his trousers. “Your mother would never have been foolish enough to come in here with these tattoos. I presume Gertrude warned you, which means your foolishness is all your own. And while you might not serve as I’d like, we do share a certain loyalty. Thus I feel it’s my duty to teach you a lesson. Other powers may not be so merciful.”

As Elias pulled out his cock, Gerard took some sick satisfaction in the fact he was already hard. Summoning the knowledge to effect Gerard had seemingly taken its toll on Elias as well. He wanted nothing more than to bite Elias, see if Beholding could fix that, but his body wouldn’t obey, and the hand still tangled in his hair pulled him forward. He grudgingly wrapped his lips around Elias’s cock, sucking and sliding his tongue along the underside. He bobbed his head forward, and increased the pressure. Better that he did his best, so this could all be over.

But there was one thing missing. He looked up and met Elias’s eyes. Windows to the soul, that old cliche, but for those loyal to Beholding, it was more true than most. Even as he swallowed around Elias’s cock, and sucked in shaky breaths through his nose, he kept their eyes locked together. Elias hadn’t won yet. 

Then Elias tightened his grip on Gerard’s hair, and Gerard lifted his hand. 

Before he even fully realized what was happening, Elias’s fingers were playing over the tattoos on his knuckles, and in the wet warmth of his pants, Gerard could feel himself growing hard again. It seemed Elias wasn’t above a bit of petty revenge. Three fingers pushing down on the small eyes, and Gerard groaned, opening his mouth wider and allowing Elias to thrust in. He shifted, the brief friction in his pants not nearly enough, but it didn’t seem to matter. He couldn’t take his eyes off Elias, and he damn well knew he’d come when Elias wanted.

Fingernails dug into his scalp, oddly sharp as Elias held him there. Gerard could feel it, the painful heat reflected in his own cock. And sure enough, without a sound Elias came in his throat, in horrid, acrid streams, even as Gerard joined him, the dampness in his groin spreading further. When Elias finally released Gerard, he spat the bit he’d managed not to swallow onto the floor, and met Elias’s eyes again. And it was only the latest in a line of many mistakes.

“You will clean that up,” Elias said as he tucked himself back in his pants, not looking the least bit shaken as he turned his back on Gerard and left the Archives. Gerard just sat there, torn shirt, mussed hair, and the disgusting taste lingering in his mouth. He tugged off the remnants of his shirt and began to wipe up the floor with it, lip curling in disgust when he realized what he was doing. One last bit of revenge, courtesy of Elias Bouchard. 

He stood, finally, bundling up the shirt and pulling his jacket tight around him. Nothing to be done about his hair, but then again, he already looked disreputable enough most people wouldn’t question it. The shirt he considered tossing, but decided against it. Wouldn’t do to let Gertrude find it, so she could ask prying questions he’d have to answer. On his way out the only thing he had to deal with was the wary eye the receptionist gave him.

“Is your meeting with Miss Robinson concluded?” she said. Her eyes lingered on the scraps of black fabric in his hand. She hadn’t liked letting him in, but she’d relented when she’d heard his name. Apparently they had him on file. How lovely.

“She wasn’t there, got tired of waiting.” He almost asked her not to say anything to Gertrude, but there really wasn’t any point. It’d only make the receptionist more suspicious. And as embarrassing as the whole thing was, Gertrude needed to know about Elias, what he was doing with his powers, and the fact he was more aware of Gerard than they’d thought. It might mean the difference between life and death, in the end. Best to make sure there were contingencies.

But one thing was certain. No matter how they decided to proceed, Gerard wouldn’t try meeting Gertrude at the Institute again. There were powers he did not want to challenge, and it seemed like he’d better add Elias Bouchard to that list.

For now, at least. Who knew what the future might hold.


End file.
